


Gold Ribbons

by Idhren15



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Fingon & Maedhros Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Short One Shot, i guess, idk how to tag this, it starts off soft and fluffy then the angst hits, it's the Silmarillion what do you expect, mentions various events of the Silmarillion, this is basically a little headcanon on fingon's gold ribbons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29095602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idhren15/pseuds/Idhren15
Summary: Why does Fingon wear gold ribbons, when Fingolfin's house colours are silver and blue, and Fëanor's are gold and red?A little exploration of character & the history of Fingon's trademark gold-ribbon braids.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno & Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Gold Ribbons

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little self-indulgent headcanon thing I wrote a while back and just found in my drafts, so I thought I would share! 
> 
> Featuring the major events of Silmarillion, covered very briefly, with a focus on Fingon and the gold ribbons he wears. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It's a summer day, and they're playing in Valinor. Maitimo has gold ribbons woven in his hair, and young Findékano likes the look. He tells his cousin shyly. Maitimo smiles, pulls out the two longest ribbons, and braids them into Findékano's hair.

That's when it all starts.

Findékano wears the ribbons with pride, getting compliments. At first at how cute he is, but when older, how handsome. Every time the braids start to come loose, he runs to Maitimo to fix them. One day Maitimo offers to use silver instead, the mark of Findékano's house. But he declines, because he loves the gold, it reminds him of his cousin and best friend.

Maitimo never asks him to change it again.

But the days grow dark, and the ribbons have specks of blood from the kinslaying. Findékano washes his face, and the braids, relieved when the blood does not stain his golden ribbons.

As he's watching the ships burn, in anger his father yells at him to get rid of that accursed gold. Findékano, heartbroken, still refuses.

They're crossing the Helcaraxë and the winds are strong, and one of the ribbons slips out. Findékano catches it, stares, and considers just letting it fly away. But he doesn't; instead, he takes out the other as well, and uses them to tie his hair back, out of the wind.

He hears about Maitimo's fate and rushes to get ready, struggling to braid the ribbons himself, but he manages, settling for two thinner braids. He wants to show Maitimo he still loves him, when he is found.

He's sitting in the medical tent, listening to his cousin's frustrations, and tentatively suggests that Maedhros try braiding his hair. The response is one of doubt, but Fingon shows how he's tried one handed, and his braids are a mess anyway. He takes out the ribbons and offers them to his dearest friend. Maedhros tries, and makes a mess of it, but he's smiling again.

They find the time for him to practice, between the battles and the meetings and the conflict in their lives, and Fingon wears each braid with pride.

After the Nírnaeth, Maedhros trudges through the ruins on the battlefield, his chest hollow and aching. He doesn't spot the standard first, nor the silver and blue, nor the broken sword.

It's the gold ribbons, stained in blood, one still in his best friend's hair, the other torn by his feet.

Maedhros picks up the pieces, then cradles Fingon's body and screams his heartbreak to the skies.

The twins find their adoptive uncle to be very quiet and distant, rarely making an effort with them. There's a darkness in his eyes that tells them he's haunted, and a carelessness around him that often makes them worry. Maedhros rarely bothers with his appearance, his red locks growing wild and untamed, his clothes mismatched and torn.

But he always wears a bracelet around his remaining hand, of tightly braided gold ribbons.

The ribbons are singed, from the heat of the Silmaril that _burns_ , it burns so much, he can't bare it anymore -

He clutches the Silmaril to his chest and stares into the flames, then turns his attention to the faded gold ribbons as he lets himself fall.

The Silmaril sinks into the lava, and the gold ribbons wrap around it, before melting into memory.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> I may write some more on this headcanon, depends if inspiration hits. For now, I hope you liked this short little fic! :)


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